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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/KyleKKent on 2026-02-06 21:00:07+00:00.
(Okay, Muse got the Evil Gas and is COOKING)
The Dauntless
The door to her office opening without warning is unusual, but not entirely unexpected. Things are moving. She has noticed, even if everyone else thought they were being subtle.
“My Empress.” The Bloody Prophet states. And he IS The Bloody Prophet now. His presence is roiling, The Forest is just behind his eyes and there is a deep agitation. Vernon Shay is looking to kill someone. Gruesomely.
“Sorcerer. I see that you’ve embodied the wrath of your kith and kin.” The Empress replies.
“Madness lies upon Centris, The Forests are enraged. All bound to them bay for blood. Violation made manifest has torn open all scars to screaming wounds. Vengeance.” His accent is Ancient Cinder Tongue, the sort of thing you only get in exaggerated forms in classical plays. But it came out of him so naturally that she’s not sure if she’s talking to a human or to an Apuk older than she is. That accent was old when she was young.
“Take a step away from the woods and explain it more clearly, I am willing to help. But I need to know what must die.” She says calmly even as she spots the traceries of vines twisting and writhing under his clothing and in his hair.
“Blood Metal is real. It is pain made manifest. The Bonechewer touching a small sample has torn open the graves of buried suffering. We go to destroy it all, but some is missing. Moving, being used on people.” Vernon Shay, The Bloody Prophet explains. His tone is halting, uncertain. “Those of us here now are redirecting most old... violations. The old violations and wrath to the self. To spare the small ones. Those who are remembered have never truly died. The Forest has never forgotten. All Sorcerers. All violations...”
“Ah.” She says rising up and calmly walking over. Not gathering Axiom to do anything, no weapon in hand, no armour upon her. Her movements open, smooth and not threatening. His eyes are growing more bloodshot as he watches her. Then he takes in a huge breath. Holds it, and then lets it out and there is smoke, sparks and a hint of fire in it. As a human and not an Apuk he shouldn’t have that instinct. But if the memories of The Forest have been kicked open that exquisitely hard, then him not being Apuk is barely a technicality. He likely has more memories of living as an Apuk than she does. Hell, with how powerful an Adept The Forest is, he might end up becoming an Apuk before the end of this.
“Speak with The Judge to coordinate. I go to hunt.” He whispers and vanishes even as a child flickers into where he was standing. It’s little Cals’Tarn, The Judge of The Damned. Youngest Sorcerer to bear a title. She crouches down to his level.
“Are you alright little one?” She asks in a gentle tone. He shakes his head. She opens her arms. “Do you need a hug?”
She instantly has her arms filled with a small, terrified, furious, child that is shivering even as vines wreathe under his clothing and she can feel moss growing as armour and then bark over it. Just under his clothing is a suit of Dark Forest armour.
“It’s then! That night! It was then! Screams! Burning light! Death! Fear! Pain! I ran! I didn’t have time for shoes! My feet! Sharp rocks and blood and pain and the screams! The horrible screams!” Cals’Tarn says as he squeezes her.
“Is there more?”
“Much! But... but.... they’re holding it back. But we can see it! Feel it almost! But it’s not spilling out! But it’s so much! So much! I want to look! But they’re holding me back! I want to help, but it will hurt! It does hurt! It’s wrong! It’s bad! Very bad! As bad as then!” Cals’Tarn gasps out.
Well, a sorcerer comparing something new to the very thing that made them into a Traumatized Woods Adept? Not good.
She picks him up entirely and carries him as she exits the office and looks to the right to see several guards already there with a few maids who had clearly been in debate as to what to do when a Sorcerer had burst into her office but there had been no sound of violence. “I suspect many of my Battle Princesses are missing. Namely those wed to Sorcerers. Contact the rest. Tell them to muster. I am going to have them secure and protect all known Sorcerer families and the remainder will go to assist their sisters in arms. Whatever has our Dark and Deadly Adepts so rattled must be dealt with, post haste.”
“At once My Empress.” They answer and she heads back into her office. She has an Admiral to talk to. Or more likely his secretary as the man is probably busy at the level she got when Morg'Arqun introduced himself to her. And the entire capital. Simultaneously.
•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (The Bright Forest, Lilb Tulelb)•-•-•
Fire roils from her mouth as bright orange and red warflames with sparks of blue to quickly wash over and destroy the condemned little fungus. The Nono is quickly dissolved. They had all agreed that right now they were not making the best decisions and it would be best if she cut down on the numbers of Nono Mushrooms so the children wouldn’t be tempted to throw them at people. Or to throw people at them.
Alara’Salm Junior wipes at the burnt spores that had settled around her mouth and nods before picking up her patched, but comfortable and functional, skirt and moving. Her children are so very, very strong. But no one is all powerful, and sometimes the best help you can give to someone is stopping them from doing something they might regret. And the recent upsurge of Nono’s growing all over the forest was a very bad thing. Her burning them away reminded her children that these were bad things not to be used. A little something to ground them all, and make sure they wouldn’t do anything they would regret.
The silvery, shimmering flat cap of a Nono is ahead and she stops five paces away before taking a deep breath, stoking the fire within, and letting lose with her fury. Her children had endured so much. Becoming murderers on top of it would be too much for many of them.
Ordinarily a Nono would actually spread through this treatment. But Warfire is different. And The Bright Forest agrees. The situation is bad, but panicked use of a Nono will make it worse.
She’s no Sorceress. She just can’t lower that last guard in her self. But The Bright Forest was deep enough to speak with her. And her to it. It’s why she could breathe this fire with impunity, everything but the Nono were protected.
She hears a whisper in her ear and nods before moving again. The delivery van is here. Full of treats and comfort foods to help calm the children. Whatever madness was going on, she would see them through it.
She would see her children safe, and if she had to burn down a million silver mushrooms to do so, then she would burn a million silver mushrooms.
•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (The Lush Forest, Soben Ryd)•-•-•
It only looks like a sandstorm. It’s something else, something generating so much static electricity that blasts of lightning are crashing through the storm. At the outskirts of their home city the Karm family and The Five Flyz watch as something has well and truly pissed off Arden. Pissed him off enough to let a whole planet know it. There were observers from all the noble and royal houses, all of them had asked the same questions and everyone had had the extremely unsatisfying answer of ‘I don’t know.’.
•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (Mmeniawa Ranch, The Outskirts, The Astral Forest/Vynock Nebula)•-•-•
The repaired ranch was chugging along nicely. Sure things were still a little patchwork here and there. But in the coming months all damage would be repaired. Honestly it could have all been done already, it was due to a lack of urgency rather than a lack of resources.
But right now no one was fixing anything. They were watching, and occasionally listening. The Lalgarta were agitated in ways that just never happened. They twisted among each other, butted heads and occasionally thrashed hard enough to throw one of their own into the station. Never hard enough to damage the structure or hurt each other. But whenever they made physical contact with the station the sound that would transfer over were nothing short of haunting.
Everyone knows Lalgarta can sing. But sound doesn’t transfer in space. It’s a mating and teaching thing Lalgarta do for each other and if you’re on a space walk or they’re towing your ship you can vaguely hear a gentle hum. Or a deep crooning noise if it liked you. It was normally charming, and if you ever wanted to hear more you needed to mount a recording device to the big goofs.
They’re singing a dirge. It can’t be anything other than a dirge. But with a bent so filled with rage that...
“What does this mean?” Cattalaya asks.
“I don’t know.” Elenoir answers. “Has your sister sent anything?”
“She says that all the men are flickering around too fast to talk to, that the nebula is singing.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.” Elenoir repeats herself and they both turn back to the viewscreen where their Lalgarta are twisting, even as one brushes against the hull and they catch a snippet of something mournful and furious.
•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (Between Worlds, The Wing, Major Galactic Lane)•-•-•
“Exhale.” Brutality orders his grandson and the furious boy lets out a deep breath laced with purple smoke. He waits a few moments. “Inhale.”
Terrance had suddenly, and impressively, grown incredibly wrathful in the last hour. He had struggled to explain himself...
Content cut off. Read original on https://old.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/1qxtriw/oocs_into_a_wider_galaxy_part_577/